What Could Have Been
by mylobear
Summary: Carl's visit to the Sanctuary doesn't go as planned. Will he be able to escape alive, or just become another one of the walkers that guard the gates? If he does escape, will he even be in the right condition to make it back home? A story mainly about Carl, who've I thrown into some different situations that I was curious to see how he would deal with them!
1. Chapter 1

Hello! This chapter is similar to the actual TV show. After this point, however, things will diverge and become different. I just wanted to set it up correctly! Leave a review if or if not you enjoyed it! Thanks:)

Michonne couldn't sleep. She and Rick still didn't have a mattress from when the saviours had burned them, but they had made due by stuffing dry grass, feathers and excess pieces of fabric into large makeshift cloth bags. Michonne had gotten the idea when she had been on run and had picked up a "The Little House on the Prairie" book. She had taken it home and started to read it to Judith as a bed time story of sorts. However, this DIY mattress was not why she couldn't sleep. No, it was because she hadn't seen Carl all day. She had only become worried when she had set out supper for her and Carl and he hadn't shown up. Carl was experienced and frequently went out beyond the wall of Alexandria. He seemed to have that Grimes luck, that no matter what, he never got hurt. He also had been raised with the Southern politeness that meant when he had told Michonne earlier he would help prepare supper tonight, that he would be there.

Now it was late in the evening and he wasn't back. She tried to remember back to their conversation that morning, if he had said anything to her that may explain why he wasn't back. Like it was said earlier, Carl was tough, Michonne would not worry if she had known that he was spending a night outside the walls, or if he had taken the trip to Hilltop. But she didn't know. And not knowing was the worst.

Carl waved to Jesus from the saviour's truck as it continued closer to the saviours… what? Their den, their lair? They all sound like something from an old comic book. But the through of calling it the saviour's community sounded worse, because they were as far from a community as they could be. The truck slowed and Carl ducked. His mind was racing too fast for second thoughts, for any hesitation. He tried to run through his plan again, but there was too much adrenaline pumping through him to get past the first part.

 _Shoot Negan. Shoot Negan. Shoot Negan._

The truck stopped and voices came closer. One saviour picked up a box that Jesus had cut the bottom out of for no other reason than to mess with them. Swearing, he looked around for another box.

"What the!?" he gasped when he made eye contact with the blue-eyed kid glaring at him behind some crates.

Carl open fired, as he walked to the mouth of the truck.

"No one else has to get hurt!" he yelled. "I only want Negan"

Everyone seemed startled, but not Negan. He walked forward, slow clapping in a patronising way. He grabbed another saviour and held him casually in front of him, as a human shield. Carl cursed his poor eyesight, before he would had easily been able to make the shot, but now he could just as easily hurt the saviour in front of Negan, as Negan himself.

But then Dwight lunge for him. And then he tried anyway. The gun fired and men fell, just as Dwight made contact and Carl was slammed into the ground. He should have brought his arms up to throw a punch, or at least protect himself, but he was more interested in who he had shot. He turned his head to the side.


	2. Chapter 2

Three men, including the one in front of Negan were slowly bleeding out. Then he saw stars as Dwight's fist collided with his jaw. Carl snapped back to reality. His arms were pinned so he did the only thing he could do by digging his nails into Dwight's back. Dwight's grip on him loosen for just a second, allowing Carl to slip an arm out and thrown a punch that hit Dwight's jaw. It made an awful crunching noise and caused Carls knuckles to bleed, he would notice later.

"Son of a Bitch" Dwight chuckled, his face darkening. "I was only going easy cause you're just a kid, but if your gonna fight like a man, you better be able to take it too."

He smashed Carls head into the back of the ground. Carl felt the corners of his vision begin to darken. He threw another punch that was aimed at Dwight's face but hit his chest. Negan was standing above him, pulling Dwight off carl.

"Now that's no way to treat a guest, is it Dwight" Negan said cheerfully, with the blood of his three fallen men staining his shoes.

Carl righted himself quickly, unsure what was going to happen next. One thing was for sure, he was at Negan's mercy, again. His gun was in the arms of another saviour, and Carl didn't have any other weapons, nor would he ever come close in a hand to hand fight. He waited for Negan to speak, trying to mask his uncertainty by staring coldly at him. Negan seemed to enjoy the uncertainty of Carl. Negan, despite everything, was really good at reading people. He looked at Carl, saw his eyes darting around, one of his hands picking at his jeans. He wondered what this kid who just took down four of his men, the first of the Alexanian's to act out violently towards him was thinking. He knew that one of them would act out eventually, it was bound to happen. It happened in every community that they took control over. Makes sense it was the kid too, young enough not to know the consequence of his actions, with just enough Grimes in him to really not like being told what to do. Carl's unsure hand formed a fist, and his eyes settled on Negan, no longer unsure, but full of hate.

"What do you want?" Carl said bitterly.

Negan laughed, leaning back as he spoke. "Wasn't enough to watch your friends get your head bashed in, you wanted to get in on the action too?" he said cheerfully, hoping for a reaction out of the kid. Nothing. Carl's face didn't change.

"If you were planning on killing me, you wouldn't have pulled Dwight off." Carl said.

"Well Damn, get this kid a prize, he's not as stupid as I thought. Nope, not as stupid to blindly come in here, shoot up my MEN…." Negan paused. He tried to calm down, he didn't get to this position by losing his cool. Men like that seemed beatable, like you could get them riled up and make them lose their cool and then beat them up while they were too mad to even defend them self properly.

"Stop fucking looking at me like that." Negan snarled as Carl smirked. Negan felt the anger rising, this little shit was making him look bad. Deep breath.

"because it creeping me the fuck out because you only have one eye." Negan watched Carl carefully. He watched his face fall, him quickly trying to re-gain his composure, and finally staring back at him with less intensity than before. Negan made a mental note in his head. One of the reasons he was so good at keeping people in line was because he knew what destroyed them.


	3. Chapter 3

Negan released Dwight's vest. Nodded at the rest of the guys.

"Unload the rest of this shit, I have to go give a little tour… what? No housewarming gift?" he said happily. Carl looked at him. He had seen Negan only a few times, but it was enough for him to decided that Negan was fucking crazy, always talking cheerfully, which only made him creepier somehow. Carl started walking and Negan fell in behind him, with one arm holding tightly onto Carl's shoulder.

"You really think after that, I'm gonna let you walk behind me?" Negan whispered.

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Darrel watched as Carl and Negan disappeared into the building. He felt more panic than he had in a long time because he didn't just see Carl, he saw the Carl he had watched grow up. The Carl that he had met when he was afraid of his own shadow, back when they were camping out. He like all the others had watched Carl grow up and he felt protective over him. He knew Carl was tough, but he was just a kid! Darryl doubted he would be able to handle the torture that had almost broke him.

Dwight walked by and Darrel could see how angry he was. There was a huge bruise on his left cheek and other saviours blood on his clothes.

"You touch that kid, I swear, take it out on me instead." Darryl whispered roughly. Dwight turned and shoved him into the walkers he had been chaining up. Darryl moved quickly. Dwight had heard him, and he only hoped he would listen.

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Carl sat in Negan's office, and he couldn't help compare him to his dad. Negan had such control over everyone, they worshiped him. Hell, they even bowed down to him. His dad on the other hand was the leader also, but had less control over his people. People could easily come and go from Alexandria, but here, everyone was always accounted for. And look where it had gotten them. To the top. Carl briefly though that if his father was more like Negan, then maybe the roles would be reversed. Maybe Alexandria would be getting a share of the other communities' goods and services, instead of the other way around. Carl felt angry at his father once again. He knew he was somewhere out there, searching for Negan. He remembered back to after they had left Hershel's farm. That was the closest his dad had ever been to anything like Negan. He remembered how his dad had seemed so distant, how the more responsible he had given to him, the more distant Rick had grown. Up until his mom's death, Carl had felt that he made been viewed as more as an asset, then as his son. In fact, he felt like that's how Rick viewed everyone back then. He summed them up for what they could do and bring to the group, not as people. Then after his mom had die, as awful as it was, it had brought Rick back to someone who cared about the person, and not just what they could do. Carl changed his mind. He was glad his dad wasn't like Negan.

Negan sat across from Carl, busying pouring himself a drink. He had never had a son, or any children for that matter. He and his wife had wanted them though, before this whole walker shit ever happened. Negan thought about how the thought of the death of all of Rick's friends had not been enough to break him. It had taken Negan to threaten to chop of Carl's arm, not even kill him! For goodness sakes, to completely destroy Rick. Negan couldn't think of a single person he felt that way for. Even all his wife's downstairs, they were all easily replaceable. Negan decided, that if he had a son, he would want him to be bad ass like Carl.


	4. Chapter 4

"You drink?" Negan said as he motioned to another glass of whiskey he had poured. Carl looked up, with the cold expression again back on his face.

"I'm not even close to being legal" he snapped, not because he was angry at the question, but because he was angry that Negan was sitting in front of him, and not dead.

"Well shit kid, you gun down four of men without even a second through, and you're more worried that it's illegal to drink. New flash, the world is fucking over, and there are no rules anymore" Negan chuckled darkly. Surprisingly, he watched as a small smile formed on Carl's face. This kid! He couldn't figure him out like the other kids that lived here. All the other kids here felt was fear when they saw Negan. Carl clearly didn't.

Carl was thrown deep into his thoughts. Negan's mention of alcohol had reminded him back when he and Ron had been friends.

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(Flashback)

"Where's the furthers you've ever traveled then?" asked Micky defensively after Ron had made fun of him for only ever travelling to Canada.

"Germany" he said cockily.

"A university friend of my Mom's was getting married, so we made a trip of it."

"Ugh, I wish we were there now, I could go for a drink, and we'd basically be legal over there, you only have to be 16!" Enid said from her spot on the couch. "Well, everyone except you, Carl" she laughed when Carl started to blush. Carl liked the way Enid's laugh sounded.

Ron, however, was sitting up right, looking at Enid.

"I could get you some you know; my mom would suspect anything if I went to the pantry."

Enid was still laughing at Carl and turned to Ron.

"Sure, whatever" she said casually, smiling. It was the way you spoke when you had already moved on from an idea that you had never taken seriously in the first place. Ron however, seemed to miss that. Later that evening when they had all left Mickey's house, Carl was sitting out on the porch with Judith. Ron walked up to him, seeming a bit nervous. Ron always seemed tense when he was anywhere nearby Rick.

"Carl, come here" he called, gesturing to the end of the driveway where he stood. Carl got up and walked over.

"Yeah, what's up." Ron looked suspiciously at Judith.

"She's not gonna tell right." Carl looked at him, dumbfounded.

"She's a baby, she can't even say my name right."

"Fine whatever, anyways, I need your help. I went to the pantry and my mom seemed to know what I was trying to do, somehow. Mom's right?" he laughed. Carl looked at him awkwardly.

"Anyhoo, I'm not going to be able to get it from the pantry, but I thought maybe somewhere out there, but like I'm… I… Like I don't know my way around out there as well as you do." He decided finally. No way he would admit to Carl, someone who was two years younger him, that he was sacred.

"Yeah, sure, I think I know a place, tomorrow we…." Carl began.

"No man, it has to be now, I promised Enid and Mickey that we'd all meet up later this evening."

"Dude, are you stupid, it's dark out."

"Come on, if you're scared, I understand, I'll just go by myself "said Ron, secretly hoping that his bait would work.

" Wha.. I'm not.. Fine. Meet here at 10, bring a flashlight." Carl groaned. He wasn't doing this for Ron, he was doing this for Enid.

Later that evening, Carl headed to his bedroom.

"It's still pretty early" Rick called out in surprise, as Carl walked past.

"Yeah, I'm tried so…"

"Okay, don't read comic books to late" Rick chuckled, playing along.

"Mmhm" Carl said. He felt bad lying to Rick, and wanted to get that part over with. He really respected his dad and felt bad doing anything that made Rick seem stupid. Carl went up to his bedroom, closed the door, waited five minutes, before climbing out his window.

Downstairs, Michonne briefly looked up from the book she was reading.

"He not feeling well?" she asked distantly.

"Naw, he sneaking out, he going to hang out with Ron. He seemed all sheepish when he came back up the driveway earlier this evening after talking to him" said Rick grinning.

"Well then!" Michonne said setting down her book, "If it's just us here then…" she trailed off, winking. Rick got the idea. The distance between them closed.


	5. Chapter 5

A while later a sharp knock was heard on the door. Rick pulled away from Michonne, grinning.

"I wonder what trouble he's got up to now" he said raising his eyebrows. He imagined a grumpy neighbour out there, holding Carl by the collar, about to complain about all the noise or that they had ran through their yard. Instead, when he opened the door, he saw Eugene standing there.

"Oh Rick, I wasn't expecting you here. Did you get what you need? Also, Sasha wasn't feeling well, so she was hoping Michonne could take her guard shift."

"Woah, hold up, what? Why weren't you expecting me here? Eugene!" Rick said, starting to get annoyed.

"Well I saw you not too long ago heading out with Carl when I was walking the south wall."

Rick was still for a minute. He wanted to get mad at Eugene, ask him how that made any sense that he and Carl would go off wondering in the night, but he didn't, instead pushed past him, to see if Ron was home.

Rick knocked on Jesse's door, gave a cold greeting, and asked where Ron was.

"Did he do something wrong?" she asked confused. "and he's asleep, he was really tired this evening, this can wait until tomorrow, Rick"

"Shit" whispered Rick, as he proceeded to fill her in on the situation.

Meanwhile, Carl and Ron were at the back of the store, inside the giant fridge. There was some alcohol left, mainly rejects, but still alcohol. They hadn't seen a single walker and were starting to feel over confident. Ron felt stupid for ever being afraid, and Carl was wondering why he was nervous in the first place. They headed back towards Alexandria, as a pair of headlights rose above the hill.

"Shit get back!" Ron cried and pushed Carl down. Carl recognized the car from Alexandria, and with a sick feeling, knew very well that his dad was in there. There was no way he was going to let his Dad search for him all night. He needed him to stop and head back to Alexandria. He pulled out his gun.

"What are you doing!" cried Ron, as Carl expertly shot at the back two tires. The car skidded to a stop and Rick got out, gun aimed, just in time to see two kids run off into the woods, back towards Alexandria.

"Son of a bitch" Rick felt a bit of pride though, his son had a good shot.

Carl and Ron meet with Enid and Mikey up in the attic. Ron walked in cocky, holding the alcohol proudly.

"You ask and I deliver" he said to Enid, "even had to go outside the walls to get it too!"

"Let's be honest, if it wasn't for Carl, you never would have gotten it." Enid said, causing the smile on Ron's face to disappear and appear on Carl's face.

Enid took a sip and smiled. "Just like I imagined"

"Wait I thought you said… "Ron trailed off. They passed it back and forth and it wasn't before long everyone could feel the alcohol in their veins. Despite previous claims, none of them had every drank before and were surprised by how they felt after a few sips. Carl felt warm and confident. He could fight 100 walkers if he wanted too. He could do anything. He saw Ron cuddling with Enid, decided he didn't like it, and marched over.

"Frig off Carl" Ron said, not looking up.

"Yeah, I don't think so, come on Enid"

Enid looked up annoyed, and pushed Ron off.

"This isn't fun if you're going to be like that" she said towards both of them. Ron looked down sheepishly, but Carl had had enough, and stalked off towards home.

He stood outside the front door, unsure how to go about this. He had never really considered the sneaking back in part, and he regretted leaving the attic in the first place, but it was to late to go back. He opened up the front door, and walked up the stairs. His dad's door was closed, and Carl smiled, now that he was home free. He opened up the door to his room, only to see Rick sleeping on his bed. Startled, Carl tried to back out of the room, but Rick quickly came to, and yanked him in.

Rick was whispering angrily, but Carl just couldn't focus. Why did he feel bad all of a sudden, where was the confidence he had just moments ago? Rick watched as he chided Carl, who didn't even seem to be focusing. In fact, he was making this funny face, like he had just eaten something disgusting. What made it even more funny was that Carl didn't even seem aware of it.

"You listening?" Rick growled under his breath, leaning in, trying to get Carl to focus. It was then he smelt the alcohol. It was also that Carl spun out of the room, and towards the bathroom.

"Well, seems like this is punishment enough for tonight. We'll talk in the morning" Rick paused, shaking his head.

"Goodnight, son." He said, trying his hardest to keep the bemused tone out of his voice.

(end flashback)


	6. Chapter 6

It had been awful then, but was now a memory Carl found pretty funny.

"You listening?" Negan said, "take off the bandage. Now." Carls face drained.

"No!" he said angrily, surprising Negan. Negan didn't like surprises.

"I'm gonna say this _.time_. Kid, take off that bandage, or Lucille will do it for you."

"No…" Carl said, in a half whisper, as he began to undo the bandage. He paused before he took off the last piece. Negan was surprised by how much this seemed to bother the kid. Carl's lip quivered and he rubbed his eyes quickly.

"Shit kid, you look like a fucking badass! No one's going to mess with looking like that, I…" A sharp knock on the door interrupted Negan.

"Yep" Negan called out, as Dwight opened the door, then proceeded over to Negan and whispered in his ear. Carl watched as Negan's face clouded over before he jumped up and grabbed Lucille.

"Fucking watch the kid while I deal with this shit" Negan growled while he quickly exited the room. The door closed, and both Dwight and Carl were silent for a moment. Carl, surprisingly, was more afraid of Dwight then Negan. Dwight seemed like a dog that was kicked too many times, and was just itching to release his anger on someone, whereas Negan, although still the most hated by Carl, only did what he did to establish a sick kind of order.

"Move" growled Dwight. "I though you and your buddy Darryl might enjoy a little playdate."

Dwight roughly directed Carl down a hallway, towards a new room. Everyone that passed by Dwight shrunk against the wall, clearly nervous of upsetting him. Dwight opened the door, and shoved Carl in so he fell to the ground. Carl quickly righted himself. Darryl was standing in the corner, his hands behind his back, tied to an exposed pipe. His face had dried blood on it, suggesting that Dwight had already taken out a bit of his anger. Carl and Darryl stood, staring at each other, their eyes trying to ask and answer a million questions.

"I'm in charge of all the work that gets done around here, and no one knows number better than me. And I know that we don't need both of you. I also know there's no way in hell were going to let just one of you leave. Nope, coming here is a one-way ticket, the only way out is death… Anyways, my money is on the big guy. You are going to fight, and whoever lives, stays." He smiled a sick smile at Carl, before walking over and whispering "I'm really, really gonna enjoy this. Not much entertainment around here"

Neither Carl or Darryl moved.

"Fuck, where's the self perseverance? I don't know how to make it simpler. One of you lives, one of you dies. And if you're not going to fight, I fucking choose, although that would be more boring"

"Just let the kid go man" Darryl growled.

"You really don't understand" Dwight smiled as he held his gun up aimed at Darryl.


	7. Chapter 7

"No!" cried Carl as he lunged for Dwight. Dwight smiled. This was exactly what he had hoped to happen. He turned around as Carl's fist hit him in the mouth. He responded back, smiling.

Carl had never been punched that hard before in his life. It spun him around, before another fist hit his stomach and he couldn't breath. Carl kept fighting back, but wasn't sure it was doing anything. Dwight kept punching and punching, like a machine. Carl's vision narrowed. He felt a sharp pain in his arm, but couldn't place it. He wasn't even sure he was fighting back anymore. He thought maybe he heard Darryl yelling. Then everything was black.

"It's okay my sweet, sweet boy. I'm here now, you can relax"

"Mom?"

"Yes dear. I've been waiting for you. It's okay, you can relax here. We're finally safe. No more fear"

"Where are you Mom! I can't see you!" Carl called out desperately.

"You just have to relax a bit more, than you can be with me. Relax Carl, it's time"

"But what about Dad and Judith and…" Carl said starting to panic. He wasn't ready to leave them just yet.

"They will be here soon too, and we will greet them together!"

"No, please, I can't leave yet. I want to see Judith grow up, I want to spend more time with Enid, I want to help Dad make Alexandria amazing and take his spot when he get's old. Please mom!" Carl cried. Carl could feel his mother's sadness.

"I love you Carl. Don't let this world corrupt you, you are still so good. My sweet, sweet boy…"

"Mom!" Carl cried as her voice grew fainter, and the feeling of warmth and love disappeared.

Carl's eyes flew open. Darryl was being lead out roughly by Dwight. Darryl turned back, for one last look of Carl. He saw the boy laying there, his blood and Dwight's all over his body and his arm at an unnatural angle. Tears formed in Darryl's eyes. He vowed to remember this, and if he ever saw Rick again, would tell him every single detail of his son's last moments. Carl's eyes flicked open, dull, and unseeing, not recognizing the space around him. Tears fell down Darryl checks.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Michonne held the radio in her hand. Took a deep breath, then twisted it to the right channel, pressed the side button and started to speak.

"Michonne to Rick, you there?" Michonne began before a large sequel was emitted from the radio.

"Copy" a voice said from behind, as Rick wrapped his arms around her.

"Perfect timing, eh?" he whispered into her ear before kissing it. He spun her around and kissed her check, moving towards her lips, before he noticed look of worry in her eyes. He dropped his arms to the side and took a step back. He was always prepared for the worst, always ready to jump into a fight if need be.

"What is it" he whispered.

"Carl" she said looking down, afraid to meet his eyes. She didn't want to see Rick look at her with hatred, or worse, complete sadness. A ringing in Rick's ear began.

"Where is he?" he whispered. Michonne was still looking down.

"I…I don't know…" his voice broke. She felt so responsible for this. Carl was like a son to her.

"But he's not hurt, he's not…dead" The last word came out as barely a whisper. The thought was hard for Rick to wrap around his head.

"No! He just hasn't been here since yesterday morning"

Rick smiled. "He probably went to Hilltop, I think he and Enid like each other." Rick chuckled as he thought about his teenage son. He wrapped his arms around Michonne again, and felt her relax into him.

"It's alright" he whispered into her hair. "Carl's fine, I have to go to Hilltop tomorrow anyways."

Later that evening Michonne and Rick laid in bed together. Michonne feel asleep quickly, happy that Rick was back. She woke up in the middle of the night and rolled over to cuddle back into Rick, but found that his side of the bed was empty and cold. She sat up quietly, and saw Rick leaning against the window, looking out, the muscles in his back tense.


	8. Chapter 8

Carl sat up slowly. He felt like crying, but he wasn't sure why. The room was dull, grey and cold. It felt like a prison.

 _The prison._

The memory rushed back to him. He knew where he was. But why had he gone here himself? Probably to get medical supplies for when his mom would deliver the baby. Yes, that made sense. The group had just arrived here. Rick was still busy killing walkers. That's why he had gone alone. But something still felt wrong. Carl's hand instinctively reached down to his gun but It wasn't there. How could he be so stupid to go out alone into a dark hallway of walkers without his gun? He looked around the room for any sort of weapon but didn't see one. Sighing, he stood up.

"Argh" he cried out before biting his lip to stop himself from crying out. He looked down in a daze, his arm hung oddly, clearly broken.

"Shit" Carl murmured. He took in the sight of the rest of himself. Blood was everywhere, and when he paid attention to it, he realized that his body hurt. And I mean, really hurt. He quickly wiped the blood off, a lot of it was still fresh, checking for bites. Carl sighed with relief when he didn't find any, but he was still confused. How did this happen, how did he get here? Why didn't he have a gun, and why was his arm broken. Carl mused over the situation quickly, maybe he had encountered a heard of walkers in the tunnel, and had fallen down some stairs, dropped his gun, broke his arm, then ran off into this room before passing out. That made sense and Carl felt pleased with himself for sorting or the situation. His brain still felt like he was in a deep fog, and he still didn't feel fully aware of his body. His vision was also pretty poor, and he hoped that it would quickly return back to normal. Carl debating on spending a bit more time in this room, but something in the back of his mind told him he wasn't safe, and that he needed to leave. NOW.

Carl stood up uneasily since he couldn't use his other arm. He pressed his ear against the door, heard nothing, then ran.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN" Negan boomed, the tip of Lucile against Dwight's temple.

"I know better than you do about the right ratio of workers to mouths to feed. We didn't need the kid. Besides, you were probably going to kill him anyways and…" Dwight was cut off by Negan.

"Don't fucking tell ME what I'M going to do. I had a fucking plan and you RUINED IT!" screamed Negan, spit flying from his mouth. He spun Lucile as hard as he could over Dwight's head, nearly hitting Fat Joey who stood next to him. Negan stood there, breathing heavily before slowly turning around. Everyone waited silently for what he would say next. Some hoped that he would kill Dwight, others liked him and remembered him fondly from when he would occasionally bend the rules to benefit them.

"Teach him a fucking lesson" Negan whispered, as he shut the door behind him.

The men descended onto Dwight.

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Negan was beyond pissed. He sat in his room, where the kid had just been earlier. Negan cursed his bad luck and Dwight's stupidity. Dwight had been right about one thing though. The number of mouths they had to feed was getting too high. They had some of the strongest and most talented men and women around, who naturally had been able to keep their families safe. So, while the children and grandparents did nothing, they still had to be fed and clothed, in order to keep the people around who made the sanctuary run. And that meant that Negan needed Rick. Negan wasn't stupid. If Rick knew that the saviors had killed his child, he would fight them, lose, and then Negan would have lost one of their best providers. All because of fucking Dwight.

"Shit" said Negan as he stood up. He needed to fix this mess.

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Carl was breathing heavily. He was lost. As he ran, he tried to find his barring, but nothing seemed familiar. Now he was leaning against a doorway. He had peaked out and saw a bay of motorcycles, a high fence, and past that, the woods. Carl knew there was no way he could climb over that fence with one arm. But there was also something telling him not to turn around and go back, that this was it.

Carl pushed open the door.

Silence. Quickly, he looked around for anything to cut the fence with. One of the motorcycles had a gun in its side bag, which Carl gratefully took. Another had a knife, but it was dull and would never be able to cut through the fence. He may be able to use the knife on the lock that held the fence closed together, however. As he made his way over there, the same door he had gone through opened, and out came a man, dressed in flannel. Carl quickly ducked down between some other bikes, hoping he had been seen. If the man wanted to, he could kill Carl, for he was too weak to properly fight back. He made his way over to a motorcycle, kicked it on, and drove up to the door. Carl was grateful for the sound of the loud engine as he sunk up behind the man. The man's head was down, and he fumbled in his pocket, looking for his key. The man found it and unlocked the gate. Carl slit his throat.

Carl felt nothing as the man crumbled to the ground. The familiar sensation of pure survival washed over Carl. He had felt and seen this many times over his years. He vaguely remembered once his Dad biting someone's throat…Thinking hurt, so Carl stopped and focused on running towards the woods.


End file.
